


Pillars of Salt

by MundaneChampagne



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angels, Jessie - Freeform, M/M, Mass Effect 2, suicide mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 15:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11739939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MundaneChampagne/pseuds/MundaneChampagne
Summary: Garrus can't talk to Shepard anymore. Coming back from the dead has changed her in horrible ways.But there is someone he can talk to, down in the cargo bay.Mass Effect 2. Vaksani.





	Pillars of Salt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThreeWhiskeyLunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/gifts).



> Another piece for one of the rarest of pairings! Whiskey, seriously. Thank you for being such a great friend, reading all the things at odd hours, and being the first Mass Effect fan I talked to. x3 I hope this is a good addition to the Vaksani body of works, and I hope to the most that you enjoy it.
> 
> It was such a fucking hard time keeping this assignment secret, lemme tell you. :p
> 
> Three cheers to my three beta readers! Potionsmaster, TryRestarting, and AceQueenKing.

 

> "Those were vile people in both those cities, as is well known. The world was better off without them. And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. She was turned to a pillar of salt. So it goes. People aren't supposed to look back."
> 
> -Kurt Vonnegut,  _Slaughterhouse Five_

 

The blasts from the gunship shake the building, shake the world.

And the next blast hits Garrus square in the face.

As he's lying on the floor, blood in his mouth, throat, gripping his rifle like a lifeline, faint hints of voices making it through the buzzing in his ears—he makes out one voice—

"He's not going to make it."

_he's not going to make it_ _—not going_ _—not going to make it_ _—to make it_

The words spiral around in his head for eons.

 

**One Month Later**

He holds down the trigger on his rifle, bullets spewing out until the trigger clicks—and clicks—

The heat sink pops out of the gun, smolders on the ground.

Undaunted, Zaeed Massani whips around, pointing the now-useless gun at Shepard. "You just cost me twenty years of my life!" he roars, spit flinging from his mouth.

Shepard moves to speak, but there's another explosion, and a steel beam comes crashing down, knocking Massani to the ground and trapping his leg.

"Son of a bitch," he growls.

"Massani! Are you all right?" Garrus speaks for the first time since they arrived on Zorya.

Shepard just folds her arms and stares down at the merc.

"I'm fine," Massani mutters. "Can someone get this off of me?"

Garrus moves to help, but Shepard holds up a hand, and he freezes. She kneels down in front of him, her face hard. "I'm not sure I need a man with your temper on my ship," she says.

Massani rolls his eyes and winces. "Cerberus wouldn't've paid my fee if you didn't need me. I'll do what I was paid to do. Now stop screwing around, and let's go."

Shepard doesn't move to help him. "I can't have any of my crew putting their own goals ahead of the mission."

"I've survived this long watching my own back."

Shepard stands, draws her pistol, points it at Massani's head. "You're part of a team. I need you to act like it."

He stares at her, then drops his eyes downwards. A long moment passes, then—"You have a point."

Finally, Shepard leans down and levers the beam off his leg. Massani stands up, shaking his leg out and wincing. "Let's get the hell out of here." He glances over at Garrus, who has been watching this whole exchange in silence. "What the hell you looking at? I said, let's get out of here."

 

After Chakwas is finished redressing the wound, Garrus nips down to the cargo bay.

Nothing serious, he tells himself. He just wants to make sure Massani is ok. Garrus thinks—wonders—if he would've reacted as well to Shepard's order as Massani did—if it were him and Sidonis was at his mercy.

He would do a lot for Shepard, but she'd been gone for two years and well—come back _different_.

Sometimes he wonders if the Shepard he admired so much has vanished into the past.

Massani is cleaning a gun when Garrus raps at the door. Looks up. "What do you want?"

Garrus edges around the door, leans against a pile of crates in the corner. Easy enough to make an escape if he has to. "Just wanted to see if you're doing ok."

"Worried I'm going to sabotage the mission to get back at the Commander?" Massani asks. He puts down the cleaning rag and looks at his hands, stained dark with grease. "No. I'm ok. The mission is safe."

"I—" Garrus is taken aback. "No. I mean. I've been where you are before. And it sucks."

"Yeah?"

Garrus moves, sits on a crate. "Shepard does that," he says, looking off to the side. "She won't let anyone under her make a choice that she thinks they'll regret later."

"I could never regret killing Vido," Massani says, throwing the rag down. He tilts his head, the scars catching the light. "This face? That was all him. Didn't even have the courage to face me like a man. Had his goons hold me down while he shot me point blank. No, I wouldn't regret killing him at all."

Garrus shrugs. "I wouldn't regret shooting the bastard who put me in the position to get my face blown off," he says.

Massani looks at him then, studies the bandage and the scarring trailing out from under it. After a moment—"You after some kind of revenge too?"

So Garrus tells him. Spills it all out, the way he did for Shepard. Except where Shepard had stood there unmoving as a statue, and Garrus had felt his words were bouncing off into space—Massani actually listens. Reacts in the right ways, an "mmhm" in a good spot, narrows his eyes when Garrus describes the betrayal.

"I've sent feelers out," Garrus finishes. "And when I find him, I'm going to shoot him. Quick and clean. Better than what he deserves. What he put us through."

Massani laughs. "You're a better person than I am. I never wanted Vido to die quietly."

Garrus shrugs. "I just want to put everything to rest. Before this suicide mission."

Massani nods. "I'm starting to…think that I might never have Vido where I want him. I took this job for the pay, you know? I've survived suicide ops before. But from what I've seen, we really not be coming out of this one."

They sit in silence for a few moments. "Hope the pay was worth it," Garrus finally says.

"Hah. Yeah, it was. I could live like a king for these last few weeks if I wanted to." He glances over at a workbench. "But all I really want is to find the part I need to fix that gun. If I can do one last mission with her and we go down together, I'll die a happy man."

Garrus cranes his neck. An old assault rifle is sitting on the bench, a few parts laid out next to it. "I'm pretty good with guns," he says, "I could take a look—"

"You touch Jessie and I'll shove her up your vent," Massani says. "That gun is special."

"Just offering."

 

Shepard leaves Massani onboard the ship for a while. Probably worried about his temper, Garrus figures. He's not sure that Massani is the one Shepard should be worried about.

For a Commander who won't let her crew shoot in cold blood, she's been doing it a lot herself these days. She shoots the crazed man on Pragia. She shoots Miranda's traitorous friend. Garrus tries to bring it up with her once, but she shuts him down and leaves him in the battery with only his whirling thoughts.

He spends more time down in the cargo bay with Massani, swapping war stories. The old merc tells a good yarn. Garrus is amazed at the adventures he's had. Occasionally they trade roles, and Garrus tells a story instead. He relates the highlights from the _SR-1_ , tells Massani about his quest to bring down Saleon. Massani's a good listener too, and these sessions help keep Garrus's mind off of Collectors and Shepard.

One day, Garrus brings down a tray of levo food. Massani has been avoiding the mess for the past few days, and Garrus wants to make sure he's eating.

Massani looks at the tray before laughing. "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture," he says, "but I'm fasting right now. Sorry."

"Fasting?"

"Yeah. Religious thing. I might be a shitty Muslim, but some things are important."

"Why fast?" Garrus tilts his head. He's heard of such practices, but not among turians. It's too important to keep up one's strength to serve the Hierarchy.

"Spiritual reflection and shit—stuff. Makes you grateful for what you have. Also teaches self-discipline." He gestures to the workbench. "Leave it there, I'll eat tonight."

Garrus starts to sit down for one of their war-story sessions, but is interrupted when Shepard comes over the ship's coms.

"I need all the ground team geared up and in the shuttle bay in ten. We've got word on the Collectors. Move it!"

Massani glances at him. "Vacation's over," he says, and they leave for the armory.

 

Garrus's heart pounds when he gets the email.

And he's suddenly faced with a problem.

He knows that Shepard will try to sabotage his revenge. But—it's still Shepard. He thinks. The person who he'd respected and well, loved, for years. Normally, he'd want her by his side.

But now?

There is someone he wants by his side though.

He is sure of that.

 

"You really want her along? You know she's just gonna blow the whole thing, right? Probably shoot your guy herself?"

Garrus puts his head in his hands. "I don't know. Before…yeah. I know what she does. But now—" He pauses, admits his worst fear out loud. "I don't know if she's the same person anymore, and it scares me."

Zaeed leans back against the wall, scratches his neck. "People can change. But maybe, take her along, and you'll find out." He shrugs. "That is, if Shepard is more important than your revenge. I think you'll have to pick."

Garrus looks up. "I want you there."

"Always happy to help. And hell, I couldn't have my revenge, I'll just have to be satisfied with you getting yours."

 

In the end, he decides that yes, he'll take Shepard.

 

She doesn't say much as they power their ways through waves of Blue Suns, Zaeed's face twitching in a little grin every time the Suns fail to stop their progress.

She does stop him shooting Harkin, though. "C-Sec will pick him up," she says, grasping Garrus's gun arm so hard that it hurts. And something boils over. Garrus remembers how Harkin had always treated Shepard back when that fool was still a cop—and that Shepard, who these days doesn't seem to care who gets gunned down, would stick up for him—Garrus lunges forward and cracks his face right against Harkin's nose. The ex-cop reels back, blood streaming down his face, crying out in a muffled voice.

"I didn't shoot him," Garrus says, and Zaeed laughs. Shepard's brow twitches, and they proceed without another word.

 

"Are you sure you want this?" It's the first time she's spoken in the skycar, and it makes Garrus jump.

"I have to," he says, unsure what she's trying to tell him. "I lost ten good people because of him. I want—need to put this to rest."

Zaeed leans forward from the backseat. "Have you ever been betrayed by someone, Commander?"

She stares off into the lights of the Citadel for a moment. "I don't know," she finally says.

Garrus blinks at that. "You'd know," Zaeed says, "because the feeling is awful. It eats your insides, and you end up convinced that the only way to fix it is to have your say. With a bullet, if need be."

The words hang over them before a moment before Shepard speaks. "I've been feeling that way since I woke up," she says.

Garrus isn't sure what to say to that.

 

He sets up on a ledge above the crowded lounge, readying his weapon, squinting through the scope.

Shepard stands like a sentinel in the lounge, her arms folded. People part uneasily around her, leaving a bubble of space. She'd probably scare Sidonis away before he could be located.

Scan the crowd, watch the faces—there.

"Wave him over," he murmurs into the com. "Keep him talking."

He watches as Sidonis hesitates, finally stands and moves to Shepard. Zaeed is hanging back, probably not wanting to add to the intimidating picture that Shepard makes.

By some coincidence—or maybe fate—her head is in his scope.

"You're in my shot," he says. "Move to the side."

She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't move either.

"Let's get this over with," Sidonis mutters, and a surge of anger flares in Garrus.

Shepard doesn't move.

"Listen Sidonis," she says after a moment. "I'm here to help you."

"What are you doing?" Garrus snarls.

"I'm with Garrus," she continues. "He wants you dead. Is there another way this can go?"

"There is no other way."

Shepard ignores him, focuses on Sidonis. Through the scope, the man looks ill, Garrus realizes.

"I didn't have a choice," Sidonis whispers. "The Blue Suns…they got me. They were going to kill me. I didn't know what to do."

The Suns. Oh hell.

Shepard stands there, not moving an inch, not giving Garrus the opening he needs—the opening he's not sure he wants anymore. He sees her hand drift to her own pistol.

No. No she fucking _wouldn't_. This is _his_ choice, not anyone else's, and he'll be damned if he lets Shepard make that call.

He lowers the rifle.

"Shepard," he growls into the com. "Stand down."

She puts her hand to her ear. "What?"

"I said stand down. I'm not going through with this."

She hesitates, but removes her hand from her hip. "You can go," she tells Sidonis, whose eyes go wide.

"I know there's nothing I can do to make it right," he says.

"Just tell him to go." Garrus's voice cracks.

This isn't what he imagined at all.

 

"Well that didn't go according to plan."

Garrus is sitting on a crate in the cargo bay, slumped over, his head in his hands.

"I don't pretend to know the Commander as well as you do," Zaeed continues, "but I have no idea what she was thinking. She stopped me because civilians were in danger—which I get—but I don't get why she'd want to take the shot in your place."

"I can't talk to her about this," Garrus mutters.

"Hate to say this, but why the fuck not?"

"What would I say? I haven't gotten a word in with her since…everything." He lowers his hands and stares into his lap. "She's not the same Shepard. I don't know who we're following into Hell, but it's not the Shepard I knew."

"Are you worried?" Zaeed asks quietly.

"I mean—not about the mission. Look at this team. I think we're going to be ok, even if Shepard isn't. But Shepard—I want her back, Zaeed, and I don’t think that's going to happen."

Zaeed sighs. "I'm the biggest hypocrite, saying this, but you should try to let go."

"I didn't even get to talk to Sid."

"What's this? Two days ago you wanted a hole in his skull. Now you wanted to talk to him?"

"I was stupid, ok? I never even figured that he might've been coerced! I just thought he'd sold us out. I was so ready to believe it, because I couldn't believe—couldn't believe that he'd be a coward like that. I completely misjudged him and look where it got me." Garrus is pacing around the room, arms flailing wildly. "And I misjudged Shepard too." He sits back down with a thump. "I was just so happy to see her. Didn't even consider that it wasn't her. Not anymore."

"But you're still following her."

Garrus looks up. "This mission is important. And hell, might as well die trying to stop the Reapers. I'd be ok with that."

Zaeed sighs. "Yeah, might as well. I'll never see that retirement I was thinking about. Sometimes it seems like this crew's just one big ol' junk pile of people. Cerberus really knows how to pick 'em."

"Do you regret it? Not being able to get Vido?"

"I got a lotta regrets." Zaeed turns his back, faces the trash compactor. "I wanted to make you an offer."

Garrus perks his head up.

"You wanna take a look at Jessie, be my guest."

"Really? You'd let me—?"

"Yeah. You're good with guns. And it's not like we've got anything to lose here."

Garrus wants to hug him, but holds back. He settles for reaching out his hand and running it over Jessie's barrel. "I'll see what I can do."

 

It was the firing pin. Garrus can hardly believe it's so simple. He spent hours poring over that gun, thinks of Zaeed spending years. And here it was, hiding under his nose all along.

"You know what an angel is?" Zaeed asks when he returns to the cargo bay, carrying Jessie under his arm.

Garrus sets the gun down on the workbench. "Not really. I mean, some kind of human spirit, right? Doing good and dealing out justice? I didn't choose the name, other people did."

"It's a messenger," Zaeed says, and picks up Jessie, cradles that gun like a child. "A messenger for God. Brings good tiding and bad tidings and shit—you know. Messages."

Garrus tilts his head. "Why bring this up now?"

"Just been thinking." He wraps his hand around Jessie, places his finger on the trigger.

"She'll fire," Garrus says. "Not very quickly—be gentle—but she'll fire."

"I'm always gentle with her," Zaeed says, and lays her down reverently. "This gun here got me through the first half—more than that—of my career. She saw me get shot in the face, and come out the other side. Losing her was like having my right arm ripped off."

Garrus looks to the side. "Is it stupid that that's how I feel about Shepard."

"Not at all. You really should talk to her, you know. Just try. Once. Before we all kick the bucket and it's too late."

Garrus sighs. "I don't know. I guess—I changed in two years as well."

"That's what people do."

"You know Sidonis and I were lovers, right? You figured that out?"

Zaeed looks up from Jessie. "No. You never said anything."

"I couldn't shoot—and now—what if it were Shepard? What if New Shepard betrayed me?"

"Stop it." Zaeed looks him firmly in the face. "We're here, nothing can change that, and all this regretting is gonna fuck you over. Starting to realize how many years of my life it stole." He grins suddenly. "Gotta say though, glad I never slept with Vido. Not my type anyway."

"What is your type?"

"Someone a lot more badass than Vido ever was. I told you why he shot me, right?"

"No. Some disagreement?"

"He wanted to let batarians into the Suns. Get involved in their fucking slave trade. I said no way. So we settled it."

"He shot you in the face." Garrus is surprised, somehow. Zaeed seems so much like he doesn't care—and yet would shy away from the profitable slave trade.

He keeps realizing that there's more to the man than he thought.

"Like I said. An amiable disagreement."

 

The crew is gone, and it dawns on Garrus that this is it, there really is no turning back. He'd been trying to resign himself to death, but it's become so much more real in this last hour.

The silent ship is getting on his nerves, making him jump at shadows. The next thing that makes him jump is a loud sound from under the engine room, which makes his neck feel hot. It's pretty obvious what's going on down there.

"I think the whole fucking crew's getting laid right now," Zaeed comments. Having company settles Garrus, takes his mind off their impending deaths.

It's good to spend the last few hours of his life with someone he's come to consider a friend.

"Except Shepard," Zaeed adds.

"And us."

Zaeed shrugs. "I remember right before my first suicide mission—that turian dreadnought—spent my night in a bar, trying to pick someone up. No one bit until really late at night."

"And?"

"It was bad enough that I felt like dying would be the better option. Didn't die though, lived to have decent sex again."

Garrus's mouth is dry. "And this mission?"

Zaeed grins. "Figure I'm too old and grouchy for this crowd. They're all absurdly good-looking anyway, and here I am with a face full of—sorry." He cuts off.

"I used to be good-looking," Garrus comments. He hates that his vanity was so upset by the scarring, but there was nothing to be done, except learn to live with it.

"Don't be stupid. Your scars look badass. Me, on the other hand—"

"Your eyes are interesting."

"We should have sex."

Garrus's eyes go wide. "Are you saying this just because we're about to die—?"

"Yeah, all right. Maybe I just want to a blow a turian one last time."

" _A_ turian?"

"Ok, fine. You."

"Last time implies that we've had a first time." The words are brave, but Garrus doesn't want to take them back.

"We should've." Zaeed draws closer to him. "You're the best friend I've had in years. I know I'm not easy to get along with, but—"

Garrus reaches out his hand. "May I—?"

"Yeah." Zaeed stands stock still as Garrus brushes his face, traces the old scars, finally cups his cheek.

"Yeah." Zaeed's voice is hoarse. Sends a shiver down Garrus's spine. "Yeah. If we live through this—I won't regret this. You. Anything."

"Not this time."

 

"About that tattoo—"

"We're not discussing it."

They're propped up against the wall, sitting on Zaeed's cot. Garrus reaches out his hand again, this time running it down Zaeed's chest, tracing the pattern of hair. "You tell good stories. And I bet there's a good story there."

"I'll make you a promise, ok?" Zaeed reaches up and cradles Garrus's neck, draws their faces together. "If we live, I'll tell you."

"Incentive."

"Mmmm."

Silence for a while, breathing in the scents of each other.

And then Shepard's voice comes over the com. "Five minutes til we enter the Omega Relay. I want everyone geared up and ready to go." A pause. "This is it. I just—" Her voice falters, maybe for the first time since she came back from the dead. "—I know I haven't been the best leader. I'm sorry. But we can do some good here, and I'll make sure of it."

The com cuts off, and Zaeed groans. "Showtime."

 

They live, somehow. There are moments when Garrus thinks they won't, moments that stop his heart in his chest and make him choke on air—but they live.

And the Collector Base is destroyed, and they leave the debris far, far behind.

"I believe you owe me a story," Garrus says, leaning up against the cargo bay wall.

Zaeed grunts. "Yeah, ok, I do regret one thing, and that's making that promise to tell you."

"Come on. You can't wiggle out of this one."

"People promise a lot of shit when they're about to die, all right?"

"But the bit about being your best friend, that was sincere?" Garrus is suddenly afraid, afraid that this friendship built on expectation of death won't live with them.

"Fuck. Of course it was. I just don't want to reveal all my embarrassing secrets, ok?"

Garrus hums. "Fine. You get a reprieve." He pauses. "For now."

 

He never gets the story.

Four days later, an Alliance ship docks with the _Normandy_. Shepard is led off in handcuffs, and Garrus is afraid, afraid for the future.

"Remember what I told you about angels?"

They're curled up in Zaeed's cot, just sharing warmth. This can't last forever. The Alliance is seizing the _Normandy_ , and the crew will have to part ways.

"Messengers?"

"That's what you gotta do. Go to Palaven. Warn them that these things are coming, and make them prepare."

"No one will listen to me."

"You'll make them. That's what angels do." He cups Garrus's cheek. "Carry that message. Save the damn galaxy."

Garrus's heart flutters, then immediately sinks. "What will you do?" He doesn't want to leave Zaeed.

"I've still got contacts. People who owe me. I'll do what I can." He pauses. "This whole Reaper thing—it's bigger than any of us. Maybe we survived that suicide mission for a reason. And maybe that reason is to kick those machines in the balls."

"I'd be ok with that." Garrus stares at the ceiling. The image of Shepard in handcuffs is haunting him. It's not right, to see her locked up.

But, like Zaeed said, this is bigger than any of them. And it hurts his heart to think about it, but maybe it's bigger than even Shepard.

Maybe Shepard doesn't need to be Shepard to save the galaxy.

And if that's true—then it's calming, in a way. No matter broken this whole situation is, it might be salvageable.

He makes up his mind then.

"Angels, huh?" he says to Zaeed.

Zaeed laughs. "Yeah. Motherfucking angels."


End file.
